Me too😭

That wasn’t what Max wanted or needed to hear right then.

Instead, he nodded once more.

“Okay, baby. If that’s what you want, I’ll help you get things figured out.”

“I want to start living again. Working on something again, working 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴 something again.”

Wrapping him in his arms, Lysander fought the urge to tell him that he could do nothing for the rest of time and it would be fine, that he didn’t need to be doing anything to prove that he was alive again.

For a moment, Max was quiet, contemplative.

“I would have gone… if things hadn’t happened the way they did,” he started, and Lysander felt it like a punch to the gut. “Ren and Hallie are in school. You’re doing your training with Vultus, and you guys have your business.”

he’s just a lil nervous🥲

“Is this what’s had you so quiet?”

Max huffed, a barely there laugh. “Kind of. Part of it, anyway. I don’t know…”

“What got you thinking about it?” Lysander prodded; he needed all the details because if it was really what Max wanted, he’d make sure it happened.

“No, I just…” words trailing off, he sighed. When Lysander reached for him, he went easily, falling back in his chair and melting into Lysander’s touch. “I’m just not sure yet.”

Lysander nodded, thumb stroking his cheek gently.

Max paused, running a hand through his hair as he glanced back down at the screen.

Lysander couldn’t help but wonder if this was why he’d been so off the past few days.

“You already know money isn’t an issue, baby, if that’s what’s making you hesitate.”

A sound far too close to a laugh escaped him and Max’s eyes went wide. “What?!”

“If you want to go back to school, then do that Max. Why would I be upset about that?”

The screen turned and he was met with the home page for the University of Del Sol Valley. Ren had done his pre-med program there.

He squinted at the other man. “Is this what you were trying to hide? You want to go back to school?”

Hesitantly, Max nodded.

“You’re allowed to have things for yourself, Max. You don’t have to explain anything to me that you don’t want to.”

Max’s smile was soft, melancholic. “You are so…”

He shook his head, opening the laptop once more, beckoning Lysander over as he typed in his passcode.

What could possibly be on that laptop that Max didn’t want him to see? He couldn’t remember the last time they’d kept something from each other; 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦, of course, but never each other.

“I was just… going to see if you wanted to come look at a car with me—”

“Lysie—”

There’d been several instances where Lysander had had to call his name multiple times before his husband realized he was being spoken to.

“I…” Lysander frowned, turning away when Max lifted his eyes once more. He didn’t know what he was supposed to say to him in that moment.

🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

Lips parted but he said nothing, Max breaking his gaze to glance back down to the laptop.

He’d been… strange, since they’d left the Mother Universe’s domain. Far more in his own head than was normal for him.

ALL HAIL MOWLINDA

Mostly, though, it was just in his nature. His mother was the same way, and Lysander had inherited all of his worst traits from his mother.

Still, he wasn’t sure any level of snoopiness on his part could have justified the way Max slammed the lid of his laptop shut upon seeing Lysander.

“Hey!”

In his line of work, it helped to be nosy, to always be watching everything around him, to always know where his people were and what they were doing.

Partial blame could surely be placed on the ADHD he refused to treat, icy eyes constantly wandering, even when he didn’t mean for them to be.

Lysander was nosy.

He was man enough to admit that.

“They deserve to be happy.”

She nodded, slender fingers brushing a stray strand of hair out of his eyes. “The Mother Universe has kept the Pickingill’s obedient by means of misery for centuries. It is time they were afforded a bit of peace.”

“It would never be exactly what it could have been. But it could be close.”

Slowly, Max nodded.

He didn’t try to delude himself into thinking it would be an easy task, something enjoyable, but… maybe he could learn to sew.

She hummed in agreement, a soft and warm sound. “You hold great sway over that family, do you realize that?”

He met her gaze, squinted in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You were the turning point. And you will be again. A family torn apart by your absence can also be sewn whole by your presence.”

After another moment though, she stood.

“Do you ache for what could have been, Maxim?”

“I…” he faltered, eyes finding the ground. “I do. The pain they went through and the things it did to them. I wish it hadn’t happened. But… I’m not sad about where we are. How far everyone has come.”

He really couldn’t wrap his head around why she had offered to show him. Couldn’t wrap his head around why he had said yes either. He’d known it would hurt.

Vedia smiled and the light in her eyes had him wondering if she would tell him at all, or if she’d leave him to wonder.

Would it help if I said this is the last time we’ll be real sad for a bit?🥲

He swallowed once, then swallowed again when the taste still wouldn’t leave his mouth. “I… Vedia?”

She tilted her head, eyes questioning. “𝘚𝘪̀, 𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘰?”

“Why did you… why did you show me that?”

And Lysander…

“Lys… Lys can never see that…” he murmured, Vedia shaking her head in answer.

“I would never show him. He is strong, but the guilt weighing on his shoulders is heavy enough as it is.”

A Ren who’d gone to school on time. Had never needed a gap year, never needed to stick around to keep an eye on his brother.

A Ren who’d never had to learn how to be cruel. Had never had to wash blood from his clothes, scrub it from under his nails and out of the creases in his knuckles.

A Birdie that had never lost a child, had never taken her sorrow out on Lysander with venomous words she’d regret the second they left her mouth.

A Nico who’d never had to watch helpless and unable to stop it as the family he’d fought so hard for was ripped to shreds.

A Leith that had been raised with his brothers by his side, childhood not overshadowed by grief for a boy he didn’t remember.

An Aby that had never been cut on the jagged edges of her brother’s misery, had never grown to hate him for it.